


Kissing For Practice

by ohmcgee



Category: Terriers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-15
Updated: 2010-09-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katie kicks Britt out at least once a week. Its kind of their schtick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing For Practice

Hank opens the door and its really not surprising that its Britt, looking like a sad, kicked puppy.

"She kicked me out." He says solemnly, hanging his head on a sniffle.

"Shocker," Hank says and opens the door the rest of the way to let him in.

"Asshole," Britt's grinning when he lifts his head and skips over the threshold. "I love the faith you have in my relationship, man. Really."

Hank rolls his eyes.

"She needed to study and said I was acting like a...'meth addicted ferret with ocd,' so she made me come here. That cool?"

"That's cool," Hank tells him, grabbing two sodas out of the fridge. When he turns around, Britt's right there, not backing away, giving him that goofy, lopsided grin that he always gives him when he thinks he has a plan, but usually ends up getting or or both of them in jail, or molested by hookers.

"Good," He says, backing Hank against the fridge. "That's good. Because I am really, really horny."

Hanks snorts. "And you thought I might want to help you out with that little problem?"

"Hey," Britt narrows his eyes, resting one of his hands on Hank's hip. "Who you calling little?"

Hank rolls his eyes at him again. "You're a perpetual teenager," he says, grabbing Britt around the waist. His fingers curve perfectly around Britt's ribcage.

Britt smirks and rolls his hips against Hank, doesn't miss the way Hank's lips part the slightest bit. "I'm not the one that blew my load in less than a minute like a sixteen year old getting his first handjob in the back of mommy's Buick."

"It was the first damn time!" Hank shoots back indignantly. "And you -" His fingers tight around Britt's waist. "Had been teasing me for weeks, so I don't want to hear it."

"It was fun when you caught me though," Britt bounces on the balls of his feet, grinning.

"I should've just turned your ass in," Hank mutters, letting one of his hand slip around and squeeze Britt's ass to illustrate.

"Well, we did use the handcuffs," Britt smiles at him blindingly and Hank finally breaks. He fists Britt's shirt in his hands and yanks him forward, crushing their mouths together. Britt tastes like beer, which startles him for a second, but its not the first time its happened, and faintly of spearmint gum, like maybe he tried to cover it up. Britt makes a soft, low noise into Hank's mouth and tangles his fingers in Hank's hair, coaxing Hank's mouth open with his tongue. Hank's hands roam up Britt's chest, pushing his shirt up under his arm, hands and fingers mapping out warm skin and familiar muscle beneath his touch, nails grazing gently over already hard nipples.

Britt's hands travel lower, fumbling with Hank's belt, working his jeans open to get a hand around him. Hank makes a contented noise when Britt's fingers curl around his shaft and making a fist, stroking him, slow and gentle. Hank moves to kiss and bite along Britt's jaw, follows the line of his throat and closes his lips over Britt's collarbone. Britt knows what he's doing, he can feel the blood prickle under the surface of his skin. He tugs harder at Hank's hair, unsure if he's trying to get him to stop or if he's just pulling in retaliation, a little signal that says _harder, yeah._

"Shit, Hank," Britt gasps breathlessly. "C'mon and fuck me."

"Here?" Hank asks, his voice thick and dark with arousal.

"Why not?" Britt laughs, a little pitchy, and pulls his shirt off over his head, then steps out of his jeans and underwear.

"At the risk of sounding seven different kinds of gay - shut up - you look so fucking hot like this." Hank kisses Britt's left shoulder, the one he messed up that time breaking into that dirty politician's house, and pushes two fingers inside Britt's mouth. Hank strokes Britt's side as Britt sucks on his fingers sloppily, getting them good and wet. Then he takes his fingers out of Britt's mouth and presses his palm to the small of Britt's back.

"Bend," He instructs and Britt leans over the table until he's resting his head on his forearms and Hank nudges his knees apart and starts stretching him open, one finger at first, slow, then adding a second when Britt's breathing evens out. When Britt starts fucking back against his hand, Hank adds a third.

"Oh fuck, Hank," Britt whines, flushed and white knuckled as Hank works him open. "I'm ready, _fuck,_ I'm ready!"

Hank chuckles a little and smacks Britt on the ass gently as he pulls his fingers out. "Have I ever told you how much of a whore you are?" He says and lines his cock up with Britt's entrance, pushing inside agonizingly slow.

"Not _today,_ " Britt grits out, sounds like he's hyperventilating as Hank's cock splits him open. "Hank. Come _on._ " He grounds out, reaching back to grip Hank's left hip and force him to start moving.

"Okay, okay. I can take a hint," Hank laughs and grips both of Britt's hips, shoving in all the way until he bottoms out, Britt practically shaking apart beneath him.

"Oh fuck," Britt says, quietly, and Hank starts moving, eyes following the curve of Britt's spine as his cock slides in and out of Britt's hot, tight, ass. "Shit, feels so good, Hank."

"Yeah," Hank agrees, bending forward to press his forehead against Britt's shoulder. "It really fuckin' does."

"Faster," Britt pants beneath him, muscles flexing beneath Hank's fingertips and Hank obliges, bruising Britt's hips with his hands, leaving more marks that Britt won't be able to explain away, and just thinking of it makes Britt's cock twitch and leak. He wraps his hand around himself and jerks himself off on Hank's cock, moaning around his forearm.

"You can be loud," Hank reminds him as he slams into him, trying to tear the groans out of Britt's throat that he knows are there. "Just us, Britt. I wanna hear you."

"God _dammit_ ," Britt shouts, thinking about how the last time they did this they were in a motel with walls as thin as a napkin and they didn't want anyone to hear them. Hank had covered his mouth with his hand the entire time he fucked him. " _Hank,_ fuck!" Britt's words echo in the kitchen, bouncing off the walls as he comes all over his hand and a little on Hank's table.

"Oh God, you have no idea how that feels," Hank mumbles brokenly across the back of Britt's neck and after a few quick thrust of his hips, Britt feels Hank come inside of him, holding on to Britt's hips as if they were an anchor, sinking his teeth into Britt's shoulder as he rides out his orgasm, grunting with each shallow thrust, another territorial, quarter-sized bruise.

When he pulls out, Britt feels gross and sticky everywhere, Hank's come dripping down his thighs, but he's smiling like he just won American Idol or Survivor or something, like he's so proud of himself.

"Dude, that was awesome." Britt says, pulling his pants on, foregoing underwear for the moment. "I'm starving. What you got to eat in here?"


End file.
